From Red to Black

This is not an accounting lesson, repeat, this is not an accounting lesson. I was born a brunette and while we keep our hair, we go grey young. I've been coloring my hair since my twenties. When I worked in a record store (yes, real vinyl records and cassettes were the thing) I experimented with shades of purple and orange. When I "grew up" and got a real job, I had a great colorist... a rich brownish red. I could afford a visit to THE SALON without thinking twice. Oh the good old days!

Flash forward to the last 12 years (which does in fact coincide with the age of my son) I have been basically brown or kinda reddish. The reddish has been great but goes so brassy so easily. And many of my friends will testify that I will put off buying the box for waaay too long. I've come to work to find "gifts" of unused hair color boxes on my desk. So my reds have varied.

As I have noted in my previous entry, time to color and cut my hair. I decided to rid myself of brassy forever and listened to my friends... I found an ash color to cut out the brass. So there I was in the hair color aisle at the HEB staring at the wall of potential colors. I have never been loyal to brand, always going for the low to mid-priced box o'color but today, I felt I was worth it... and tossed the box of 4A Dark Ash Brown in the cart and forgot about it for a few days.

Home hair dying isn't very difficult. If you can read, you can dye your hair from a box. Even though the directions provide extra minutes for stubborn gray, I usually add an additional five to that because my gray is obstinate. I have a special shirt that I wear and recently added a hand towel to that as well. I saved a root touch up brush that helps with the hairline and temples but I always miss a few. On goes the dye and then I sit around for the prescribed time. I can't do anything really because I wear glasses and without them the world is a blurr but of course, I can do laundry blind if there is any left to do. 

Finally its time to hit the shower. Rinse until clear is actually pretty interesting. Within the first few minutes excess dye splattering everywhere creates a shower murder scene. Some products make your hair feel like straw, but I have to say that I love the conditioner that comes in a box o'color. I have friends who used to buy the box just for the conditioner. Once completely rinsed and conditioned the waiting game begins for me to see what color 4A Dark Ash Brown really is because the box pictures are always off. I rarely dry my hair with an actual hair dryer. I just can't be bothered but I just can't stand it... I grab the blower and go for straight hair versus the air dried mostly curly look. 

And now I am Dark Ash Brown, which is really Daring Almost Black. I embrace the change and everyone says it suits me. Next, the new hair cut.

Labor Day

Labor day was planned. If I did not go into labor naturally, I was to be induced on January 9, 2001 so my doctor would be available, he was going on vacation. I had my birth plan, we went to Lamaze and I was ready. Or so I thought. That day, getting ready to check in, I was having second thoughts, like some how I could delay being a mother. I was happy being pregnant.

Motherhood. This is the place where I learned what unconditional love is all about. I was scared I wasn't going to be able to get pregnant. I was an "older" woman (read mid thirties) who was finally ready for the next phase of my live, motherhood. My doctor told me all was in order and to come back in six months if we didn't get pregnant. And viola, we got pregnant in four months. Once I got past the agonizing fatigue, I actually enjoyed pregnancy. My body was doing all this amazing stuff. I don't remember the actual date or how far along I was, but that moment when I first felt that movement, I was awestruck. I was the bowl and someone was squishing the pasta around on the inside! Yes, I loved this new life growing inside of me, but this unknown life was still a stranger.

The pregnancy was all normal until that blood sugar test. I had to go back for what seemed to be a never ending series of icky sugary stuff and vials of blood. It was confirmed. I had gestational diabetes. I changed my diet, no sweets for me... no ice cream and pickles. At this point I wasn't allowed to indulge in the pregnancy craving myths. Small portions multiple times a day but that wasn't enough to change the blood sugar levels. I was prescribed insulin. Thank the goddess that my husband had been an LVN in the army. He gave me shots multiple times a day for close to three months. But it was all good. I was not a happy camper testing my blood several times a day. But I did it out of love.

Ouch!

We checked in to the hospital around 4 pm to be induced. We, how silly, it was just me who was going to be induced. I wanted to have that text book natural childbirth but I was hooked up to a monitor since my pregnancy was considered high risk. Cervidil applied and told to just wait. Around 10-11 pm contractions began and around 4 am my water broke.

Women are amazing creatures. I don't remember so many parts of my labor. All I know is that I went to that primitive place that all mothers go. Having a doctor is nice, but labor is natural and our bodies truly know what to do if we allow it.

I'm told that I began the pushing phase at 3 am. I'm told we used a crouching bar. I faintly remember the ten minute contraction that brought the whole maternity ward into my room. One minute I'm huffing oxygen and the next I'm asking who are all these people and is the baby okay? I don't remember the "crouching bar" or the name of the woman who said, "Push right here."

Around 10 hours later Dr. Chuckles (the subject of another blog, but really the most amazing Dr.) told me I could have an epidural to get some rest or we could move to a C-section. Doc told me think about it for a while. Doc and my husband left the room. And again, I'm told that ten minutes later I proclaimed, "Get it out of me now!" Still not unconditional love.

I was told I could stop pushing now. Really? Just how do you stop the most natural, conclusive action to a contraction? I cursed like a sailor and my Dr. held me down for the spinal. I apologized profusely. My husband told me he could see all my insides and Dr. Chuckles said something like, "Oh, the baby is looking up at the stars. No wonder!" Then it happened, unconditional love made that first noise, kitten-like cry.  "You have a son!" proclaimed Dr. Chuckles. Poof! I was staring into the eyes of our Padric and unconditional love was born.

Blogging Dilemma

I've been investigating on ways to improve my blog and I have a dilemma. The key advice I keep coming across is to stick to one subject. My problem is that my life is multi layered. Another tidbit was to keep your paragraphs short. Really? Is this paragraph too short or two long?

I'm a "working mother." But nearly every woman I know has worked outside the home, or works her ass off at home or will work outside the home again. I have interesting views on working and being a mother which I have yet to explore in my blog, but it is a topic on my "To Blog" list.

I work for a large corporation in customer service. Yes, I spend 40 and sometimes plus hours on the job. I encounter things that vary from the ridiculous to the sublime. I've only tickled the surface of working for "the man."

But I am also a wife, married for eleven years. I am the proud parent of a single child. Just these two areas of my life give me enough material to write for ions. Both have their challenges and rewards that I think are worth sharing.

And I am an activist with a strong political voice. Perhaps many will not champion my causes, but I agree to disagree.  

How can I chisel down to one area of my life? Should I even try? My dear readers, I would love to hear from you on this... really, get to commenting.